


scars

by newmoons



Category: The Twilight Saga, Twilight (Movies), Twilight Saga, Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/F, alice cullen x rosalie hale, rosalice - Freeform, rosalie hale x alice cullen, the twilight saga - Freeform, twilight saga - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 14:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16494080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newmoons/pseuds/newmoons
Summary: there was a scar on the pixie’s neck, but alice didn’t really like to speak about it





	scars

there was a scar on the pixie’s neck, but alice didn’t really like to _speak_ about it. she touched it sometimes in the mirror as she frowned. clothes couldn’t hide it– at least, not from a _vampire’s_ eyes. and her own drifted down, to watch some _irrelevant_ part of her outfit. it wouldn’t _matter_ today, anyways. she decided the scar was too _heavy_ a thing to try and detract from, after until rosalie passed her room, noticing her dejected, unusually _defeated_ stance. she stepped inside, eyes cautious, but body language _open_ and leaning towards the smaller woman. “what’s wrong?” she asked, one hand lifting to _run_ manicured nails down alice’s arm.

alice simply shrugged, _pouting_ lower lip shaking.

rosalie’s eyes softened. she knew it was a sore spot, these outfits and that _crescent moon_ on her neck. it had taken a _very_ long time before alice was comfortable with rose touching it, and it was often in the most _intimate and loving_ ways.

after all, rosalie knew a little bit about lasting scars, too. it was just that hers weren’t _visible_. that might have made it _harder_ for alice to try to help, like maybe a _scarf_ or a _collar_ would. but alice had tried, persistently but gently, and in her own way.

and eventually, it had _worked_. and rosalie had admitted, in her own time, the _scars_ under her beauty. under their _seemingly_ impenetrable skin, the world that existed and _raged_ within her every day.

so much for being _untouchable_ , she scoffed.

but now, now her fingers moved _gently_ up to the brunette’s shoulder, head tilting to look alice in the eyes. she was nonverbal now, drowning in her sadness, in the _only_ image she had left of a life she otherwise could not touch without it _fading_.

rosalie pressed her fingertips faintly to the scar, _frowning_. but her eyes burned with an _intensity_ , a _sincerity_ she often did not feel. not unless that person _mattered_ to her _dearly_.

“ _i’m sorry,_ ” she whispered, and her eyebrows were pinched together, forming so much _empathy_ that it conflicted as _guilt_ within the shorter of the two. she immediately wanted to help, to reach out, to _press_ her lips to that small _indent_ between her eyes.

and alice nodded, throat _thick_ with human emotions she had tried so hard to grasp for so _long_.

“yea,” she said. “ _i know._ ”


End file.
